


For Voldemort and Valour

by Acnara



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: I mean, M/M, Right?, Valour AU, better make some lemonade, canon until cursed child page 192, cursed child fix it, cursed child spoilers, nothing you haven´t seen already but still, when life gives you lemons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 22:30:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8818636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acnara/pseuds/Acnara
Summary: “We need to wait,” Snape had told him. “Wait until no one will notice us leaving.”
Scorpius listens to Severus Snape, and he waits.Then he meets someone interesting in the Blood Ball.
- and this how we made this paring canon.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sonarous](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonarous/gifts), [Malacrux](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malacrux/gifts).



> Chelle, here is the Valour AU. Hope I made it justice. We planned so much more than this, I know, but I hope you still like this "introduction" to our head canon. I made this incredibly fan-service (Chelle service) so you might notice some... things. This might be a good time to get that Cursed Child script you own and re read from page 170 to 192. Just saying.
> 
> Jaleesa, beta of beta´s, I promise next time I will write all the time in the same tense. i´m overworking you and I know it, so let me gift this to you as a sorry.
> 
> Janet and everyone in the GC that has at some point being spammed by Chelle and I screaming VALOR AU at each other, this is also for you. Happy bday, Eveiss!

“We need to wait,” Snape had told him. “Wait until no one will notice us leaving.”

That had been days ago. Scorpius trusted Snape, of course. This might be another reality --a bizarre, terrible, scary one—but Snape was a war hero, after all. He remembered how Snape’s eyes had gone wild when Scorpius had told him about Albus’ grandmother, Lily, and had begged him to help him restore the future.

Snape had looked at him like he was _hope,_ and had asked him to wait until he could warn the others, until he could make a plan.

“What others?” Scorpius had asked, only getting a ‘trust me’ as his answer.

So he had trusted him. He had trusted the war hero and endured his own life as the Scorpion King. He often hid in the library, looking for any history book that could tell him what had happened in those years after the Battle of Hogwarts. Sadly, Hogwarts lacked books about modern history, but the fact that Scorpius was still avoiding his… friends gave him a lot of free time, and he had used it wisely.

He had tracked down Albus’s mum. A poster he had found stuffed in an old potions book had called her a terrorist, the words blood traitor written in angry, red ink across the young, beautiful features of Ginny Potter. Whoever could bring her head to the Dark Lord would be awarded 7000 galleons. She had died almost two years after the rise of the Dark Lord.

The twins had both fallen in the Battle of Hogwarts. Professor McGonagall had died five years ago. And, strangely enough, Teddy’s mum, Nymphadora, had survived until almost last year.

He could not find anything on Rose´s parents. Just as he could not find anything about Harry Potter.

Harry Potter. He had been obsessed over Harry Potter. Umbridge had found out, and his father had been _mad._ Very mad.

But that had been almost four days ago. And Snape hadn’t decided when the ‘right time’ was yet. _Keep waiting_ was all the man would say to him. And _refrain from blowing your cover for your Potter obsession._ That one he had heard often when talking to the potions teacher, too. _Behave like the Scorpion King would, and don’t raise any more suspicions, kid._

But now here he was, lace tickling his neck and Polly Chapman in his arm. Wasting time. Time he could spend trying to find out what went wrong so he could grab his Time Turner and fix it. If only Snape would tell him what it was.

“I always knew you would end up picking me to go to the Blood Ball, Scorpion.” Merlin, did he hate that nickname. It might have sounds ridiculous before, but Polly Chapman had singlehandedly ruined it for him. His knees physically trembled when he realized he was going to have to be nice to the same person who had cleaned someone’s blood from her shoes right after asking him to pick her as his dance partner.

And yet Albus dared to say his luck was worse than Scorpius'. Unbelievable.

“Did you?” he replied, trying to look for the buffet. There had to be a food table in the Ministry of Magic. No one could organize a ball this big in the Ministry and not remember to include a buffet. Just walking from the entrance to the fountain had left Scorpius tired and starving. Why was this party at the Ministry again?

“But of course I did. Christine Wildred thought you would pick her, but I knew you had better taste than that.”

Christine was a funny girl. Or as funny as someone could be in the world he was stuck in, Scorpius thought. Had he known she was interested in going to this ball, it would not have been Polly grabbing his arm and smiling to strangers, for sure.

That had struck Scorpius, too. There were barely any Hogwarts students. Oh, there were some, of course, mostly Slytherin and all either purebloods or high half-bloods, but they were a small group in comparison to the adults. Everything looked too elite and posh, even to him. As a Malfoy back in his own time, he had attended similar balls, but he was still taken aback.

“Scorpion. _Scorpius!”_ Polly was glaring at him.

“Hmm?”

_“_ When are we going to dance?”

“Dance?”

“Yes.” Polly’s voice was hard and cold, and Scorpius just wished he could have avoided this mess altogether. How was he going to dance? He knew nothing about dancing besides it needing a hand-feet coordination far beyond Scorpius skills. Did the Scorpius of this timeline dance? How had he learnt that? His dad had tried to teach him multiple times before he had just given up on him.

“I… uhm… don’t think we are going to do that, Polly. I don’t feel… er…”

“What? You don’t feel what _exactly_ , Scorpius? You have been acting weird this last week, you know? Sometimes I wonder if you hit your head wit-“

“I think I’m going to get us some punch.” He muttered before skillfully removing his arm from Polly’s death grip. He lost himself in the crowd just in case his date decided to follow him.

Could he do this all night? Maybe he could find an open floo network and leave?

But no. His father was here. This father who was not really his father but not that different from the real one. And he had told him quite firmly to stay until at least an hour before midnight.

Well, if he was staying, he was at least taking a snack. Luckily enough, whoever had designed this ball had good taste. Treacle tarts felt like small miracles in between all that high restaurant food surrounding him.

They reminded him of Albus. And that reminded him Albus did not exist in this timeline. Instead of working to fix it, Scorpius was playing evil overlord and eating sweets.

Snape had better have a good reason for all this waiting.

He took a couple of sweets on his hands, deciding that he would probably needed them if he was going to deal with Polly the whole night, when he heard a voice over his shoulder.

“It can wait.”

“But, the Augurey was looking for you, my Lord.”

“Was she? What an honor.”

“ _My Lord I did not meant it-“_

Scorpius tuned around, hands full of treacle tarts. His luck had not changed in this timeline, it seemed, because he crashed into a chest covered with fine wizarding robes, now ruined by sweet cream. He heard an almost high pitched scream.

“Oh, Merlin, I’m so sorry!” the words rushed out of his mouth before he had seen who was now covered in dessert. But then he did. He raised his eyes and they widened comically.

“It’s okay, young Malfoy. It’s easy to lose one’s manners when it comes to treacle tarts. I just hope you left some left for me.”

The Death Eater --for there was no way he could mistake the famous Robert Parkinson, who had barely avoided Azkaban after the second war- Was gaping in horror at the ruined robes.

“My Lord… Lord Valour I…” he tried to take his wand out, but the man was faster and the sugar disappeared with a turn of his wrist. Some part of Scorpius was panicking in the back of his mind.

‘Weren’t you dead?’ Is all he could think. ‘I thought you were dead.’

But the smile he got was familiar, the way he got patted on the shoulder and told accidents happen even in the best families was familiar. The small wink he got was familiar, too.

“Y-You,” was all he could say, interrupting the other’s speech. “Y-you are…”

He could recognize those eyes and that face, anywhere. The other person frowned slightly and stared deeply at him. Right, Scorpius was acting strange again. Snape would…

Albus. The plan. Merlin, what was he going to say to Albus?

What had happened exactly in this timeline? Was he not really dead? What had happened then?

“Lord Valour,” Mr Parkinson was staring at him, too. “Is everything all right?”

“Uhm? Oh yes, of course.” The man seemed to have been slapped back from his thoughts and he gave Scorpius a charming smile. “I’m afraid I need to go now. No rest for the wicked, right?”

He made a dismissal gesture towards him and Scorpius didn’t need to be told twice.

He turned around, ignoring Parkinson’s horrified face --he had probably done something very disrespectful, basing his assumptions purely on the exactly how pitched his gasp was. He was used to do disrespectful things in front of pureblood society. His father had given up on his manners, too, eventually.

He sprinted out if the Ministry with only one thought in his mind: no matter what Snape wanted, they were going to fix this tonight. And Snape was going to explain to him what was really happening in this timeline.

He could feel Lord Valour’s eyes on his back all the way until he reached the floo network.

He didn’t dare to turn around, afraid that if he did, he would find those eyes on him and he would not be allowed to leave.

-0-

 

“You were not at the ball”

The Dark Lord’s eyes lifted from his paperwork to see the elegant figure of Lord Valour leaning against the door of his office. He was still wearing the dark robes Madame Franthiera had personally tailored for him. His own set of robes, matching in style and colour were lying onthe chair behind his desk. _Oh._

“Is it already over? Goblins-“

“There is always something.” The boy, no, the _man_ interrupted him. Many, many years ago this would have granted him a series of painful Cruciatus curses until the Dark Lord had the bleeding man begging him to lift the curse.

Sometimes it disturbed him that these days the thought barely crossed his mind. Sometimes it did not disturb him at all.

Lord Valour started moving around the room when the Dark Lord did not answer him. Lord Valour approached his private library, and scanned the books in it, barely touching the covers with his fingers.

“What do you want, Harry?”

The man didn’t look at him and Voldemort could sense his magic, wild and playful. He was not angry but ah, there was something around the corners of it. It twisted and curled around itself and Lord Voldemort just knew something was on Harry’s mind without even trying to use the link between them.

“Delphi asked for you.” The tone was nonchalant. Of course he was bringing up the girl.

“Did she?”

“Yes. She was very disappointed her father had decided not to show up after all her hard work organizing that ball.”

Harry took one of the books out of the library with a fluid movement and opened it like he hadn’t said anything at all. Ignoring the Dark Lord, he let himself fall into the armchair near the fireplace and rested his feet on the small table. There was a tense silence, and Voldemort could feel his patience shortening.

The girl. _That girl._ Harry was not looking at him, acting like he did not care about the topic, and two could play the cold game.

“I don’t understand why you keep calling her my daughter. It was a dark magic ritual that involved sex, _Lord Valour_. She could be just as mine as Rockwood’s.”

It worked. Just not really. The black haired man moved slightly and turned a page of the book.

“I can feel the magic suppressants on her. If I ever removed them and spoke in Parseltongue to her… would she answer me, darling?”

He had regretted letting the kid live since the very second Bella had announced her pregnancy after the Battle of Hogwarts. But they had won, the blood ritual had worked perfectly and he was feeling magnanimous. Let his commander have her child. Let the child live.

Now he wished he could just kill her. She was useful, of course. The ritual had promised to grant him a seer and so it had. It hadn’t happened exactly how he had wanted it - Bellatrix had had her vision, surely, but the pregnancy part...

All in all, _the Augurey_ had had her first vision the year after she was born and it had been incredibly useful. It still was, whenever Voldemort let her access her full power. She was faithful, almost reverent of him. She would sooner die than fail him.

But if any ideas of what the Dark Lord should do _as her father_ started to grown in her head, he would have to break her skull to tear them out.

“Bellatrix doesn’t parade her around as Rockwood’s daughter.”

Oh. _Oh._

“Is this you being jealous, _darling_?”

Harry stilled and a dark smirk crawled on Voldemort’s face. So it was that. The animosity between Bella and Harry was… unexpectedly amusing to watch. In public, Harry was quick and deathly with cold remarks towards the Death Eater, but in private, when no one was looking…

The green eyes lit up with fire not even he had ben able to extinguish after the war. In another time, almost another reality, the Dark Lord could remember those same eyes bright with fury before every torture session, always daring, ever so… _courageous._

It had strangely pleased him then, and it certainly pleased him now.

Harry was beautiful when angry. Voldemort would have to eventually kill the girl if Bella was fueling the rumors, of course, but seeing Harry this angry was worth all the headaches that 'daughter´ had brought him.

“Do I have anything to be jealous of?” his voice intended to cut like glass but Voldemort’s smirk only grew and he raised from his seat. Goblins could wait.

Harry followed him with his eyes. He didn’t move, but he also didn’t refuse the Dark Lord’s hand when he caressed his face.

“Not at all.” He murmured, and his red eyes found his lover’s. “No, never you, my brave little lion.”

Harry licked his lips and Voldemort’s gaze dropped to them on its own accord. The fingers that had been tracing the smooth cheek stopped for a second before they travelled to his chin, all the way down until his fingers barely brushed the man’s lips. Harry’s breath was heavy now and any thoughts about goblins that still lingered on the Dark Lord´s mind vanished in thin smoke.

And then Harry spoke again.

“I saw Scorpius Malfoy today at the ball.”

The Dark Lord blinked, and carefully straightened, getting away from Harry’s face. He couldn’t really pinpoint when he had started to close the space between them.

“Lucius’s son´s child?”

“Exactly. Haven’t you heard the rumors? The kid has been acting strange. Draco himself had to talk to him.”

What was this about? At first it had looked like Harry wanted to talk about Bellatrix’s girl, now it was the Malfoy’s prat he was interested in? No, there was something, something gleaming in his eyes, something in the way the tanned skin around his lips almost curled upwards. Something important.

“I bumped into him.” Harry’s words were soft, like he was sharing a secret with him.

“Am I supposed to be impressed that the kid wasn’t able to walk straight, _darling_? Or did he do something distasteful… again?”

The Malfoy brat was insufferable. Abraxas genes had been deteriorating with each generation. Lucius' child had end up being useful in the same way Bella’s kid had, but still. It had reached his ears the boy went around calling himself _king_.

He was looking forward to the day he would mark him.

Not every follower would be marked, no. It was an honor that had to be earned, but Scorpius Malfoy would be granted the mark. Lord Voldemort was looking forward to making the boy kneel and cry away his pride along with the agony his mark inflicted.

Harry was looking up at him, still sitting in the armchair, which gave the Dark Lord a perfect view of the self-satisfied smirk on his face.

“Strangely enough it was not what he said, but what he thought, that I found interesting.” And with a fluid movement he placed his arms behind his head. For a second, the Dark Lord regretted the strict etiquette norms often attached to balls. If Harry had been wearing those muggle clothes he was so fond of, the shirt would have riled up. He would have been able to peek at the black-inked snake curling around a skull hidden on his lover’s lower abdomen.

Harry’s smirk turned even more smug if possible, like he could tell not just what the Malfoy heir had been thinking back in the ball, but what the Dark Lord was thinking right then. And maybe if he hadn’t known the way Lord Valour sounded whenever he traced that mark with his fingertips, he would have felt embarrassed.

“And what did our beloved royalty,” he half spit “think that left such an impression on you?”

The gleam in those bright eyes was suggestive but the Dark Lord was not fooled.

“He was… surprised to find me there.” The smirk was still in place.

“The brat was surprised to find Lord Valour in a ball organized _for_ the rulers of Britain?” The Dark Lord picked up the book that laid forgotten on Harry’s lap. Time magic.

“No, not _Lord Valour._ He was surprised to find _Harry Potter_ there. Alive, and… what did he think exactly? Oh yes, "chatting with murderers and Death Eaters. What was he going to tell Albus? _”"_

Neither of them spoke. Harrys had that mischievous smile on full display now and Voldemort couldn’t really say anything. Albus.

Dumbledore was dead.

“But that is not the _fun_ part,” he half heard Harry say “right after that he had this huge urge to "take that time turner and fix this timeline, never mind what Severus thinks _"._ Isn’t he just **delightful.”**

The parseltongue would normally make Lord Voldemort’s eyes glue to his horcrux’s lips, but the words kept repeating inside his mind.

Snape. _Timeline._

“You want permission to kill Severus.” His voice was steady, but it dripped with understanding. Harry’s smirk did not waver.

“We knew he was a traitor. This is just more prove. But I’m also curious. _Especially_ after the little blond sent a very clear picture of me dressed like an auror. Head Auror, actually.”

The Dark Lord stared at the little menace as he stood up, their chests almost touching.

“So, do I have it? Permission to kill your potions master? I will find you another one.” He was so close Lord Voldemort could smell him. “ And I was nice enough to ask.”

Everything made sense now. Harry and his little jealousy show. _Time travel._

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t interested in what this young Malfoy had implied. He had been acting strange, according to the gossip of the high class.

_Time traveller._

“I have already told Delphi to get me a meeting with the dementors.”

Lord Valour’s voice was soft, but the small edge was there and it did not escape Voldemort’s notice.

“You cant keep bringing her up whenever you want something from me”

The green eyes shone in mischief and he spoke directly against his lips. If he just pressed forward, he could shut him up with a kiss. Harry knew it. It was a trap. And despite himself, the Dark Lord trembled in anticipation.

“Watch me”

He retreated quickly, and the Dark Lord barely stopped himself from chasing his lips.

“You finish your work,” Harrys laughed, but his eyes were bright. “I have interesting things to investigate, _my lord.”_

He reached out and took the book out of his hands. His eyebrows were raised in a cocky gesture and before he left the Dark Lord knew what he was going to say.

“I’ll be back soon.” The smirk was back. Wrists over his heart in a mocking gesture. They did not greet each other like this, but the others did. It had always amused Harry, and the Dark Lord was quick in indulging him. Strangely enough. Or maybe not that strangely, after all.

“For Voldemort and Valour.”

He smirked back.

**Author's Note:**

> If you could´t tell, this has a loooot of plot both before this scene happens and from here on. This was meant as a gift, with no intention of making it a long fic, but if you like the idea of our valour!Harry AU I´m sure both @trippingonflatsurfaces and me would be delighted to scream all our plot details to your face on tumblr. For Voldemort and Valour! (sorry I had to)


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